


Ghost

by xtreasure17



Series: Ghost [1]
Category: The 100
Genre: Angst, Character Analysis, Character Death, Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtreasure17/pseuds/xtreasure17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has lived a thousand and one lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> The trailer got me like "AAAHHHHHH!" So this drabble was created.

Some people become ghosts before they die.

It was the shell of a kindred soul that greeted you when you first stepped into the tent. “You are the one who killed three hundred of my warriors.” Only those most ruthless, impassionate, logical can look into another man’s eyes and say, “Go die for me.”

Head over heart, she always said; but in her, there was no heart to be conquered. Instead, she lived in those of her people—the _ahwonkru_ that lived because of her, and would die for her—; lived beyond the impossible, of what no human could possibly survive (but she could and she does). A figurehead.

A ghost metamorphoses into the manifestations imagination conjures. She has lived a thousand and one lives in her one lifetime. And she has died a thousand deaths.

You see the scars of the most recent three: _Kostia_ in the clench of her jaw when she swallows the words she cannot say to you, _Onya_ in the tilt of her chin always held high, and _Gostos_ in the strength of her left hand steadying the blade that ultimately cuts through her own skin. You see what she wants you to see—the spirit of _heda_ in the vessel of a girl too young to carry the weight of a thousand pasts—and something more.

A childhood that should have been (she twirls her dagger on the tip of her finger with an astonishment of the power she wields), the ghost of a girl she never grew to be (her words were bitter with sarcasm but her eyebrows quirked in mirth at the words you spoke back), a weakness subdued and never allowed to transform into a strength (she fell apart under your hands, soft, pliant, so broken, and never so full of life), the promise of a future that was never hers to make (“Maybe we do.”).

It never was. You failed to remember she was human until her crimson stained your hands, her skeleton, her skin, and the earth. Ghosts do not bleed, but she does. The Commander may be immortal, but she is not. “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.” In that last smile, she more than survived. She only resumed living the moment before she died.

**Author's Note:**

> "ahwonkru" = the one nation, the coalition 
> 
> Sorry if I broke your heart.  
> Comment, give kudos, spread the love ~


End file.
